You approach the village as fast as you dare, because you can’t be seen or heard at any cost. The man you’re dealing with is an expert; he’s not to be trifled with. He’s such a legend that some even go as far to call him a myth. The fact, though, is that no one has ever seen him, except his victims. He’s what they call a ninja assassin.

And you’re the cop.

You crouch behind a tree, still and waiting. Clothed in a simple black jumpsuit and boots that minimize sound, you know that you’d be pretty much invisible to any passerby. Just to be sure, though, you’d made sure to set the trap in a remote location. It wouldn’t do to be interrupted by a civilian.

You go over the plan in your head, and you remember how you were put on this case.

***

“He goes by the name Colin. But that’s just an alias,” your superior tosses a file into your hands.

You leaf through its meager contents. There isn’t much to go on.

“How am I supposed to catch a man who’s just a shadow?” you ask. “No one has ever seen him, and we never know when or where he’ll strike next.”

Even though your employer is the country’s number one security agency, they have been thwarted time and again by this mystery man. But that was before you’d joined them.

“That’s your problem. You’re one of our best agents, figure it out,” he directs his attention outside of his office. “Hey! Get me two cups of coffee!” he yells at the intern, as if talking to you is something beneath him.

The man is beginning to piss you off. You’d never been on good terms with the sergeant, but this, this was too much. He constantly dumped work on his subordinates, and then took credit for their efforts. You abruptly push back your chair, take an about turn and march out the door and past the intern, knocking down the tray of coffee in his hands. But you don’t care, you’re too mad to give a damn.

Once you’d gone home, though, you went through the file again. Orders are orders, no matter how unpleasantly they delivered.

***

And, so, you went on to plan out a capture mission. The plan was simple enough to create. The main reason no one had been able to catch him so far was because he was a contract killer. No one knew who Colin’s next target would be, and he wouldn’t strike unless he had made a deal with someone.  So, you’d gone through third parties and asked them to make a “deal” with him.

You look out at the village where Colin had been told his next victim would be. The old, traditional houses have long since been abandoned. You don’t have to worry about harming anyone out here. You wait in silence. The wind whistles ominously as a cloud shifts, obscuring the moon and plunging the area into darkness. You curse under your breath and then regret it; you’re not supposed to be making any noise.

Suddenly, you don’t know what it is, but you know he’s here. You don’t know how or why, but you can feel a presence. Swallowing quietly, you take baby steps, inching around the corner of the house that’s at the edge of the village, keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of movement. You turn the corner, but there’s no one there. Perhaps it was just your imagination. But you tell yourself that’s it’s best to be armed in any case, and your hands move to one of the many concealed pockets in your jumpsuit. Pushing your hand into the cloth, you feel around for your gun. It’s not there.

And then, you know.

You turn around, and there he is. Wrapped in clothes that are dark as the night, he stands stock still, your gun in hand. He’s been caught. You know that you’re at the disadvantage here. He just needs to pull that trigger and you’ll be a goner. Reflexively, you drop down and roll to the side so he doesn’t have a chance to shoot you. It’s taken only an instant, and instant is all a trained killer needs to shoot his target. But the bullets never come. You get up, perplexed. But what confuses you more is what he does next.

He drops the gun and begins to run. He runs away from the village, and into the surrounding woods. You can’t let him get away! You follow in hot pursuit. He may be a trained killer, but if there’s one thing your pride yourself on, it’s your ability to run. Be it sprinting or long-distance, you’ve always been the best.

Within a few moments, you’ve caught up to him and, with a lunging movement, you throw yourself at him, tackling him to the ground. Before you know it, though, you’ve been pulled to your feet again and you’re thrown against a tree trunk. The hard bark presses into your back and drives your breath away. He’s got your arms in a vice-like grip.

It’s only now that you get a good look at him. You begin to memorize his outline for future reference. He’s tall, around six feet, and muscular. There’s no doubt that he’s stronger than you. If you want to escape, you’ll have to rely on something other than sheer strength. Every part of his body is obscured by thin black material, except for the area around his eyes. That patch reveals that he’s as pale as the moon.

And, oh, his eyes. Those two almost luminous orbs that are dancing with flames that just take your breath away. How could a cold killer have eyes with such passion? Those endless pools of emotion hold you captive just as much as his hands do. You’re free falling. But you can’t allow yourself to be distracted.

With a quick, clever move you twist out of his grasp and get behind him, intending to strike a blow to his legs. Quicker than you thought possible, though, he moves out of reach. Unmoving, you both stare at each other. He knows that if he tries to run, you’ll just chase him down. The two of you have no option but to fight.

For a few moments you just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. In a flash, you’ve withdrawn a couple of knives and sent them flying at his head. He easily sidesteps them. You had expected as much. But it’s enough of a distraction for you to move in and attempt to strike a blow. In a fraction of a second, he’s caught your hand and twisted it behind you. Just as quickly, though, he lets your hand go. You already know what you’re going to do next. You spin around, your hand grasping a knife, aiming for his chest. He easily blocks you and grabs the knife. You curse. Time to try another tactic. Just after feigning a kick at his calf, you bring your leg up in order to strike his head. His hand comes out of nowhere and twists your leg too. You let out a shriek and fall to the forest floor, pulling him down with you. He’s on top of you now, and there’s pin-drop silence.

For a while you just stare at each other. You heavy breathing is audible and your chest visibly rises and falls with every intake of air. He’s a mere few inches from you. You can see the faint glow of moonlight reflecting off the skin around his eyes and you can almost feel his breath on your face as he steadily inhales and exhales. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart. You’re defenseless now, both of you know it, and he can easily attack you. Yet, the blow doesn’t come.

He’s standing again and staring at you. His eyes pierce yours, and it’s as if he’s asking you, beckoning you, to get up. You don’t quite understand what’s going on, why he isn’t attacking you, but you get up anyway and stare right back at him. You don’t like being at anyone’s mercy. And then something clicks. All this while, he’s hardly struck a blow. He’s toying with you. It’s almost as if… he wants to know how good you are.

You narrow your eyes. Fine, you think. If that’s what he wants, you’ll show him who he’s messing with.

And in a blur of movement, you begin attacking him using a series of complicated and intricate maneuvers. You don’t stay in the same place for more than an instant. Speed on your side, you begin attacking him faster and faster, and at last you succeed in engaging him in the fight for the first time.

The both of you are now moving in a complicated pattern. Your bodies move fluidly from one pose to another, all the time trying to land a blow on the other.  You feet are entwined in a dance of their own, while you hands move at blinding speeds. You try to punch him, he blocks you as if he’s swatting away a fly. He tries to kick you, you move out of reach. Blow after blow is parried by the both of you and you know you need to injure him quickly, before you tire out. In a flash, you’ve drawn out another blade and, though you hesitate for just a fraction of a second, you slash at his thigh and your blade finds its mark. You feel it sink into his soft flesh. But he takes no notice. It’s this that surprises you and makes you fumble for just a moment.

But a moment is all he needs. He vanishes from your line of sight. You stand still, straining to hear for the slightest movement.

“Did you honestly believe I’d fall for such a stupid, stupid trap?” a deep and, surprisingly, melodious voice intones. You feel a sudden flash of white hot pain at the back of your head.

And then you feel nothing.

***

To be continued...